


Repercussions

by PeaceHeather



Series: Merlin fics [10]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Episode: s02e05 Beauty and the Beast, Episode: s02e06 Beauty and the Beast, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Lecture, One Shot, Rants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 04:44:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16078697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeaceHeather/pseuds/PeaceHeather
Summary: Uther married a troll. In canon, that all worked out fine eventually. In this slight canon divergence, there is at least one noble who's not willing to let it slide so easily.





	Repercussions

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea slamming around in my brain for weeks now, so I finally sat down and wrote it in two days to get it out of my head. I hope it's coherent.

Uther was a powerful king; his word was generally law, in Camelot. There were many who feared to contradict him, and with good reason; his purge of magic users was ruthless, relentless, and brutally efficient, a reflection of the man himself. He had a council of nobles who were supposed to aid him in deciding policy, but ultimately those decisions rested on Uther's shoulders, and he did not allow the nobles to step out of line very often, or very far. What Uther wanted, he got. It was all for the good of Camelot.

And then he married a troll.

* * *

 

Merlin was helping Arthur to dress and pack for a journey, and as usual, asking questions whose answers weren't really any of his business. "Who's this Lady…"

"Madelgarde. Lady Madelgarde," said Arthur, shrugging into his vest and working at the buttons.

"Right," replied Merlin. "So, who's this Lady Madelgarde, and what's so important that you have to go visit her right now?" Arthur supposed that was a reasonable question; it had only been two weeks since the troll disguised as Lady Catrina had been killed, and since Arthur himself had nearly died by poisoning in an attempt to free Uther of the troll's enchantment.

"She's one of the council of nobility that advises Father on matters of state. Only, after the chaos with the Lady Catrina died down, we discovered she had left Camelot and returned to her own estates, and more importantly, she took her full levy of two dozen knights with her."

"And that's bad?"

" _Yes_ , that's bad, Merlin, try to keep up. Camelot depends on the strength of its army to protect its people from invasion, whether it's from common marauders or from other kingdoms. Our borders are almost constantly in a state of flux; it's why we're always going out on patrol, _and_ it's why that treaty we signed last year with Bayard of Mercia was so important. We need our army to keep our people safe."

"All right, I follow so far."

"Each noble of a high enough rank is expected to contribute a certain number of troops to the army, whether it's footmen or cavalry or archers. Lady Madelgarde gave us knights. Damn good ones, for the most part."

"And now she's taken them home with her."

"Yes. And we don't know why. She may well be plotting rebellion and treason against the crown, although… between you and me, that's not really like her. She's always been one of the voices of reason on the council, even though some of the other men and my father tend to overlook her advice."

"They ignore her?" asked Merlin. "Why's that?"

"I wouldn't say _ignore_ ," Arthur hedged. "But Morgana pointed it out to me, and when I looked for it… Madelgarde tends to have to put her ideas forward by influencing other councilors, rather than just stating them directly. If she does try the direct approach, some of the lords will ignore her or tell her that whatever she wants can't be done, and then five minutes later another lord will bring up the same idea and get all the credit for a brilliant solution to a problem."

"That sounds really irritating."

Arthur nodded, selecting a boot knife to add to his kit. "According to Morgana, it's because she's a woman. Some of the other nobility think she should have been married off and her husband or son taken her place on the council, and they don't like hearing a mere woman speaking so forwardly."

Merlin wrinkled his nose and stopped stuffing shirts into Arthur's satchels. "That sounds ridiculous."

"Oh, you think so?" Arthur raised one eyebrow at his servant. "And what would you know about council matters?"

"Well, I know she has brilliant ideas, because you said so yourself. Even the other councilors think so, or they wouldn't be trying to steal the credit for them. And she's obviously a skilled enough administrator over her own estates, to be able to send you two dozen knights. So she can't be a complete waste of space on the council. What does it matter if she's a woman?" Merlin shrugged and went back to packing. "In Ealdor, the elders are whoever is known to be the best at solving problems, and they're about half and half men and women."

"I think the problems of Camelot are a _little_ more complicated than the ones your village faces," said Arthur with a laugh.

Merlin didn't take the bait, though. "All I know is, if I were overlooked that constantly, I'd be pretty frustrated myself."

"You sound like Morgana," Arthur admitted. "She thinks that Father marrying Catrina was probably the final insult for Lady Madelgarde, and that she's pulled her knights from the army to show Father that she's serious about demanding an apology."

"Okay, but if he thinks she's _just a woman_ , why is he going out to talk to her, and bringing you along?" Merlin crossed to Arthur's wardrobe and began rummaging through it. "Why not just demand she come back?"

"He's going out to talk to her because, even though he doesn't think her threat is serious, she actually does have more power than almost any of the other councilors," said Arthur. "Only one or two of them have the lands and the wherewithal to send two dozen knights to Camelot's army."

"And she's a voice of reason on the council, and Uther just married a troll," says Merlin.

Arthur winced, and shared a look with Merlin. "There is that. And it turns out, he did demand she return, and Lady Madelgarde ignored his summons."

It was Merlin's turn to grimace. "Even I know that's bad," he said. "And he's bringing you along because…?"

"Because he thinks this will be a good opportunity to teach me something of statecraft. When I become king, it'll be almost inevitable that some of the council will try to undermine my authority, in order to gain more power for themselves. But Camelot cannot afford a weak king, so he's bringing me along to show me how to deal with stubborn nobles."

"And you did almost just die recently," said Merlin. "He probably wants to have you near because he cares."

Privately, Arthur doubted that had anything to do with the king's decisions, but it was nice to imagine it might. According to Gaius, Uther had had to shed tears of genuine remorse in order to break Catrina's enchantment. At the very least, that meant he'd felt badly about disowning Arthur at Catrina's command.

He said nothing, but his silence was enough for Merlin to notice, because he set the stuffed satchel on the floor and said, "He loves you, Arthur. He does. He may not be very good at showing it, but you didn't see him after the Questing Beast got you… or after you took that potion."

Arthur shrugged, unwilling as always to discuss such things. "Have you got my bags packed, or not?"

"Yours are," said Merlin. "I still have to get mine together, and then get the horses ready."

"Hurry up, then; I think we have two hours before Father wants us to depart."

* * *

 

Their party was relatively small; a retinue of knights and retainers was inevitable when the king traveled anywhere, but Uther was not one for ostentatious displays of his own wealth and power, even in a situation like this one.

"We go to persuade the lady, not to conquer her," said Uther. "And if we must resort to force, it will send the message that Madelgarde may have had good reason to withdraw her support. Then the other councilors might choose to defy me as well. There is benefit to withholding our strength for the time being, Arthur."

"I see, Father."

The trip was uneventful, and within a matter of a few days' slow travel they arrived at Lady Madelgarde's estates. Arthur had been expecting a manor house, with gardens, perhaps; something befitting a woman of the nobility. Instead they climbed the hill to see in the distance a formidable, if small, citadel in good repair, with a moat and bailey and archers visible on the walls.

Uther's lips thinned in annoyance when he spotted them. "She plans rebellion," he muttered. "See, how she is already prepared for war against us?"

"Could it be that she is merely keeping the defenses at the ready while she stays here, as we do?"

Uther hummed, but did not answer.

The citadel was easily defensible, meaning it commanded an excellent view of the road leading up to it, and they were spotted well before they arrived. An older gentleman, presumably Madelgarde's steward, greeted them at the gate. "Uther Pendragon," he said, giving a bow that was not half as respectful as it should have been. "And is that your son I see?"

"It is," said Uther, eyes narrowed.

The steward bowed low, and Arthur felt his eyebrows climb his forehead in surprise. Behind him, he could hear Merlin make a soft sound, quickly covered. (He'd been keeping his thoughts to himself in Uther's presence, only really speaking to Arthur in the privacy of their tent at night, but still hadn't quite perfected the art of being entirely invisible. Arthur was used to it, but if Uther ever noticed Merlin it'd be the stocks for him.)

"My lady is pleased to welcome you, Your Highness," said the steward, ignoring Uther completely. "Rooms are being set aside for you as we speak. For your retinue, would you prefer accommodations within the citadel, or to set up your camp just outside the walls? We will of course provide food for you all."

Arthur schooled his expression as best he could, but it was hard not to be caught wrong-footed by the steward's clear difference in treatment between him and his father. "I… prefer to let the king decide such things," he said, covering a wince at the awkwardness of his reply. He could _feel_ Uther glaring at him out of the corner of his eye and knew there would be words later.

"Within," said Uther shortly, and the steward bowed again.

"We will do our best to accommodate you," he said. "My lady will attend you in the great hall shortly. If you would follow me?"

Stable hands were already waiting to take their horses, and Arthur quickly fell into step beside his father. Behind him, he could hear Merlin's light footsteps, and clenched his fists briefly before relaxing them again. The idiot hadn't been told to follow Arthur, but he hadn't been told not to, either, so here he was. Hopefully neither Uther nor Madelgarde would make anything of his presence. To them, Merlin was only a servant, and Arthur hoped they would simply ignore him. It was too late to send him away now, without calling attention to him and risking further annoying his father.

"What is the meaning of this, Arthur?" asked Uther in an undertone; the steward was far enough ahead of them that he would not overhear.

"I have no idea, Father," he replied honestly. "I am as surprised as you are. Perhaps Madelgarde is testing us."

The entry beneath the portcullis had guards at both ends, and strangely, a large mirror hanging high on one wall, high enough for a person on horseback to see themselves fully, and for a person on foot to see only their head. Arthur frowned at his reflection; mirrors were expensive luxuries, and it made no sense to have one hanging where everyone in the entire keep would have to pass it. How did they keep it from getting smashed or stolen? Why was it there in the first place?

They crossed the bailey and followed the steward to the entrance to the great hall. In the open courtyard, servants were bustling about on their errands, but there was none of the tension that Arthur thought he would see in a citadel preparing for war. There were no farmers bringing their livestock in to shelter, for example; no shouting, and no concentration of troops on the walls.

"Are you certain she's preparing to rebel, Father?" asked Arthur quietly. Uther did not answer.

In the corridor leading to the great hall, Arthur found more mirrors, over a dozen of them. Some were placed directly opposite the narrow windows, while others hung side by side to provide a single enormous reflection. There was one spot where two mirrors faced one another, and Arthur was actually dizzied for an instant by the recursive reflections of himself and his father, seeming to stretch into infinity, before he stepped past and he could see only ordinary tapestries hanging on the walls once more.

"Why would anyone hang mirrors like that?" he asked.

Uther snorted. "The vanity of woman, Arthur. No doubt she takes this route to the great hall and wishes to be certain she is properly _bedecked_ before entering."

That did not strike Arthur as true, given what little he knew of Madelgarde, but it was clear that Uther was not in a mood to give the lady the benefit of the doubt.

"You know perfectly well why I have hung mirrors here, Uther," came the lady's voice from behind them. "Or have you forgotten in the past twenty years?"

Arthur turned and saw Madelgarde coming toward them, unsmiling. Arthur hid a grimace; it was clear that she had heard Uther's insult. And yet, there was little of vanity to her that Arthur could see. Her graying hair was swept back into a simple knot at the base of her neck. She was not dressed extravagantly; her gown was slit for riding, and her only jewelry was a simple pendant, a single large jewel surrounded by pearls, hanging from a plaque necklace. The pendant flashed in the light as she passed Merlin, and she flicked her glance to him before settling on Arthur. Her expression softened and she nodded her head respectfully in greeting.

"Your Highness," she said. Then she turned to the king, and her tone grew much less warm. "Uther."

"Lady Madelgarde," said Uther. "We have much to discuss."

"We do not," said the lady. " _I_ have much to say, and you have much to which you will not listen. As usual. I am only entertaining your visit because you have brought your son."

Uther's eyes grew wide, then narrowed in anger. "You have my knights—"

"They are _my_ knights," Madelgarde interrupted, "and they will remain here for the remainder of your reign."

"Are you breaking your oath of fealty to me, Madelgarde?" Uther's voice was low, dangerous. Arthur had heard that tone before; as a little boy it had made him shiver, and he was hard pressed not to do the same now.

Lady Madelgard swept past them without even answering the king, striding toward the entrance to the great hall, where her steward stood waiting. At the doorway she turned and glared at Uther. "You have come all this way," she said. "You wished to talk? Then, _pray_ , come in and be seated, and we will _talk_. Much good may it do you."

By the time Arthur and Uther reached the doorway, the steward had already pulled Madelgarde's seat out for her, at the head of a long table not too different from the one in Uther's own council chamber. The tapestries on the walls were bright, their colors seeming almost to glow in the light from the clerestory windows. The hall was spacious, with high ceilings, and a mezzanine that wrapped around three of the hall's four sides. It was empty now, but Arthur could imagine servants or musicians filling it during a feast.

Madelgarde was still glaring at Uther as they approached the table. "Sit."

"You dare to order me about, Madelgarde? Need I remind you who I am?"

"Need I remind _you_ that you are in my home, and I rule here?" Madelgarde placed her hands on the arms of her chair and drew herself up, her chin high. Behind him, Arthur heard Merlin and the steward shuffling about, before three goblets were placed on the table. Merlin poured his wine, while the steward poured for Madelgarde and Uther; then they both moved out of the way, to stand in the shadows and listen. "I have little time to waste on pleasantries, Uther. We both know why you have come: you wish me, and especially my levy of knights, to return to Camelot. I tell you now that I will not, and neither will they."

Uther looked like he was reining in the urge to shout, but Arthur also knew that he had planned to use persuasion here rather than force. "Why not?" Arthur asked, just before Uther could speak.

For a wonder, it worked; Madelgarde's expression softened once again as she turned to Arthur, and her grip on the arms of her chair loosened. "Your Highness, I will be pleased and proud to return the levy to Camelot as soon as you ascend the throne, and myself as well, if I am alive on that day and if you will have me. But Uther will never command my knights again, if I can help it."

"You speak of breaking fealty with me," said Uther. His tone was still angry, but more measured now, and Arthur hid a sigh of relief.

"You broke fealty with your subjects first," Madelgarde shot back. "You swore on the day you were crowned to protect the people, by your life or by your death, and you broke that oath. I owe no fealty to a man who will not keep faith with me."

At this, Uther laughed scornfully. "In what way have I broken faith with you, my lady?"

"You _married_ a _troll_." Madelgarde's expression was completely flat.

"Yes, yes, and you would prefer that I had made you queen instead; is that it?"

It was Madelgarde's turn to laugh, and the sound sliced through the air to make even Uther flinch. "By every god, no. Is that what you think? That I left Camelot in a fit of _jealousy_ because you wed another?" She laughed again, but Arthur could see she was furious. "Do I _look_ like a simpering maiden to you? It would explain how you treat me in council."

"If you were not envious, then what—"

"A troll, Uther. Need I repeat it? You married a troll. It wasn't even human. It stank; it slept in filth. You made _that_ your queen."

"I was enchanted—"

"Yes, you were, you blithering fool. You banished all magic from Camelot on pain of death, after your son was born, and it has left you vulnerable to the _simplest_ forms of attack. Your son wished to know why I hung so many mirrors in my entryways; did you tell him the answer, or have you forgotten?"

"I expect you will tell us whether we wish you to or not," said Uther.

Madelgarde rolled her eyes and turned away from him. "Your Highness," she said, "your father has been most remiss in your education. There are things he does not want you to know, no matter how useful or beneficial they would be to you." She waved a hand toward the entrance to the hall, through which Arthur could still see the corridor lined with mirrors. "A sorcerer or magical creature can disguise itself with illusion. It need not even be a sorcerer, merely someone who has drunk the correct potion. Mirrors, however, will reveal the true image of the being behind the disguise. They are not foolproof; there are some magics powerful enough to counter the tactic. But hanging a mirror where all guests must pass by it is a simple precaution to take."

"So it isn't sorcery itself," Arthur wanted to know.

"It is not. The mirrors are not enchanted. It is simply their nature to reveal the truth."

"Would a mirror have revealed the Lady Catrina for what she was?" Arthur suddenly remembered catching Merlin in his chambers, spying on Catrina… with his mirror. Had Merlin suspected her even then? His servant was standing behind him, where he couldn't make eye contact without being painfully obvious about it. He'd have to ask later.

"It may have, Your Highness," said Madelgarde. "But trolls have exceptionally strong magic, and it is possible that whatever this one did to disguise itself would not have been revealed by the mirror."

"So your _precaution_ would have been useless," mocked Uther.

"Oh, be quiet, you petulant child," snapped Madelgarde. "The false Catrina ensnared you within a _month_. I know full well that your physician tried to warn you that she was not who she appeared to be."

"He did?" asked Arthur. Uther took a deep breath, but did not answer.

"Apparently Gaius knew her as a child, when she visited Camelot last," said the lady. "And he regularly gave her medicine for an affliction that made it difficult for her to walk. A lifelong affliction, one with no cure. Yet the Catrina who came and claimed Uther's hand had no such affliction."

"Flimsy evidence," said Uther, but Madelgarde was having none of it.

"A month, Uther, from her first appearance to your marriage. During which time you did not even attempt to look into her past, to determine what had happened to the house of Tregor, to ask where she had really come from. You resisted her lies about as well as a magpie can resist a shiny bauble. It never even occurred to you to question?

"But even that was not enough for me to recall my knights and return here," she continued. "No. That day came when I watched you follow the troll's orders to raise the taxes on the people to an impossibly high level, and then disown your own son and heir to the throne when he opposed the move. I _watched_ as your thugs tried to squeeze every last penny from the townspeople. I watched you publicly _humiliate_ your own son, and on that day, I packed my things and left Camelot."

"I restored my son to his rightful place!"

"After he nearly died, yes. The troll must have poisoned him to remove the threat he posed to its grab for power."

"Ah, not exactly," said Arthur. At this, both Madelgarde and Uther stopped and stared at him. Arthur cleared his throat. "Gaius is well-educated," he began carefully, "and he realized that the only way to break Father free from the troll's enchantment was for him to weep tears of true remorse. So he prepared a potion for me that caused me to, er, resemble a corpse. It was a gamble, but Uther shed tears, and the enchantment was broken."

"You willingly took poison to save your father?" asked Madelgarde. On her face was an expression of pure wonder. "To save Camelot?"

"It wasn't poison," Arthur tried, but Madelgarde wasn't interested in his deflection.

Neither was Uther. "You did what?"

"It was the only way," said Arthur. Then a bit of bitterness crept into his tone despite his efforts, as he said, "And in any case, I was disowned at the time. If the enchantment didn't break when you saw me, I would not have survived much longer anyway. A disgraced prince with nowhere to go? Anyone who took me in would have been gambling that I would be an effective political pawn to use against you or Camelot. I would have been a hostage at best. Dead, at worst."

"My son…"

"And this is what you threw away without a second thought," said Madelgarde. "I hope the troll was good enough in bed to be worth the trade."

Arthur's jaw dropped; Uther went white, then red with anger. "How _dare_ you speak to your king in such a manner!"

"I've already told you, Uther, you are not my king any longer. You _broke your oaths_ to Camelot, to the people, to protect their safety. You _threw away_ your only son."

" _I was enchanted!"_ Uther roared, leaping to his feet.

"And how much longer until you are again?!" Madelgarde, though a woman, matched him in volume and Arthur jumped in his seat. "You broke your oaths _repeatedly_ after Ygraine died, all for your own _hubris_. I have tolerated your reign for as long as I could, and mitigated your worst excesses where possible, but this is the final straw."

"Do not dare to speak my wife's name," Uther growled.

"I shall say whatever I like in _my home_ , where you are no more than an unwelcome _guest_ ," declared Madelgarde. "You threw away magic as if that would quench your guilt, and now Camelot is _weakened._ And you are weakened most of all. It is a wonder that the land has not _withered_ under the weight of all the curses of all the innocent magic-users you've slaughtered. Any sorcerer bearing a grudge comes to Camelot to attack you after what you have done, but you are a coward who hides in the citadel and sends Arthur out to do your dirty work for you. You leave him vulnerable to attack, since those you've wronged have decided that if you must destroy their families, then they will destroy yours. How long before one of them succeeds, hm? How long before you are dead and Arthur is king? Or, how long before _Arthur_ is dead, and you are left with nothing? Do you think we on the council have not _noticed_ how often your son's life is put in danger, on your behalf?"

Madelgarde took a deep breath, visibly reaching for composure. "Uther, you will never command my knights again," she said quietly. "You have proven that you are not worthy to have control over their lives or their deaths. They will protect _this_ corner of the kingdom, under my command, until such time as Arthur is king. Then, and only then, I will happily renew my oaths of fealty to one who has demonstrated that he deserves them."

"Do you now plot my death as well?"

Madelgarde snorted. "Please. I have no need to plot against you. I have my own lands to administer and no desire for yours. No, I need only stand aside and wait. Without reasonable voices on your council, Camelot will become a dictatorship ruled only by your tyranny and your madness, your paranoia and your hate. Your peasants will flee. Your army will starve. Eventually you'll die, one way or another, and if we are fortunate, Arthur will be king, and then we shall see whether the prophecies are true."

Arthur startled at that. Behind him, he heard Merlin fumble with something, liquid slopping to the floor, and hoped that his full-body twitch would be attributed to that. Madelgarde glanced Merlin's way, and one corner of her mouth turned up.

"Prophecies?" he asked. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't know?" asked Madelgarde. "I apologize, Your Highness. I knew that Uther was remiss in your education, but I did not know that his willingness to keep you ignorant extended quite this far."

"But what are you talking about?"

"Have your father tell you," said the lady. "I have heard it said that confession is good for the soul."

Arthur looked to the king, and swallowed with a throat gone suddenly dry. "Father?"

"Superstitious nonsense, Arthur. I have told you nothing of it because it is a waste of time to dwell on such things."

"We shall see," replied Madelgarde. "Speaking of wastes of time, I have other matters to see to, Uther. Have we quite finished here?"

"We have not," said Uther, but the lady only rolled her eyes.

"As I said before: I had much to say, to which you would not listen. I have spoken for Arthur's benefit, not yours." She turned back to Arthur then, and added, "I trust you will think on all I have said."

"I would prefer to discuss it with you back in Camelot," said Arthur.

Madelgarde smiled, the first genuine smile he had seen from her during this visit. "And with my knights there as well, I am sure."

"That _is_ where they belong, training with the rest of the army," Arthur pointed out.

"I shall be happy to return, with all my retinue, on the day of your coronation, Your Highness," she replied serenely. "Until that day, I fear I must decline your invitation." She rose to her feet, and Arthur followed out of courtesy. "I am afraid I have other matters to see to and will not be able to dine with you this evening, but I wish you safe travels back to Camelot on the morrow."

"Thank you for hosting us," said Arthur. It was clear that he would not be able to get Madelgarde to do what he wanted, but he could at least be more courteous than his father had been so far.

"Thank you for coming, Your Highness. I look forward to the day the Once and Future King rises to power."

Arthur frowned in confusion, and opened his mouth to speak, but Madelgarde was already walking away. So he turned back to his father, to ask what she meant by the strange title, only to see that Uther was sitting slumped in his seat, face pale and eyes wide.

"Father?"

"Superstitious nonsense," the king whispered, but would say no more.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Lady Madelgarde](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16108271) by [Purpleplums](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purpleplums/pseuds/Purpleplums)




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